For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing. He meditated, and began a new paragraph. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. " "Would you be angry if I offered it to you?" "Very. How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me? She came upon the Song of Songs—which had been pasted down in the Enschede Bible—the burning litany of love; and from time to time she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. Accordingly, having given Wood such directions as he thought necessary for his guidance, and received a handsome gratuity in return for his services, he departed.
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